


Golden Light

by raging_fire



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Aurora is a clumsy baker, Crush at First Sight, F/F, First Meetings, Fluff, Mor is smitten and gay, Post-ACOWAR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 12:57:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15219626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raging_fire/pseuds/raging_fire
Summary: Mor gets caught up in the rain and ventures into a bakery in Velaris. She wasn’t prepared for who she was about to meet, or what she’d stir inside her.A short, fluffy one-shot of Mor meeting an intriguing girl.





	Golden Light

 

The weather was bad enough that Rory contemplated going back home. Rainy days were meant to be spent in bed, reading good books and drinking hot tea, not running as if her life depended on it. She was almost sure that she'd trip and break her neck any second now.

 

The colourful bricks of the bakery came into view, making Rory sigh with relief. Perhaps Gwyn hadn't arrived yet.

 

Panting and gasping, she reached for the knob and tried to open the door.

 

Closed.

 

"Thank the Cauldron," she breathed, reaching for the key in her pocket and unlocking the door.

 

The bakery her aunt owned was empty. She shut the door behind her and pulled up the curtains, indicating that the shop was now open -- not that anyone would be interested in shopping for sweets on such a horrific day. It was a good thing, she supposed; this way, she'd have more time to try out some of her new recipes.

 

"Let's have some fun," she said to no one in particular.

 

And she did.

 

She didn't know how many hours passed when her first batch of lemon tarts was finished. The whole bakery was filled with the sweet aroma of her tarts, making her smile despite the dough and flour coating her hands. They looked pristine -- as big as her hand and filled with a new flavour that she'd been trying to perfect for weeks now. She was on the verge of tasting one herself when the doorbell rang, accompanied by mumbled swears and water dripping on the floor.

 

"Hello? Is anyone here?" a feminine voice asked.

 

Rory raised her eyebrows. Who in their right mind would be outside on this kind of weather? Not even her aunt bothered to come in.

 

She set the tart back on the ornate plate and entered the front room.

 

In front of the door, wet from head to toe and clutching a flimsy overcoat, was a gorgeous High Fae female. Her blonde hair was dripping wet, framing her heart-shaped face. Despite the sorry state she was in, there was no mistake that the female was outrageously beautiful and pissed. Rory thought she might choke on her own saliva if she kept staring like a fool.

 

"Hi," Rory breathed. "Can I help you?"

 

The female's brown eyes focused on her. It was as if she was being assessed by a more than cunning creature, wondering if she was friend of foe. But whatever emotion her face betrayed made it clear that she was not the latter.

 

"Yes," she said, smiling faintly. "I was on my way home and I got caught in the rain. Do you mind if I stay here until the rain stops?"

 

Her teeth were clattering so badly that Rory felt the urge to push her into the oven just so she'd get warm. She didn't seem like a threat, either; and forcing her out in the rain wasn't exactly her style.

 

"O-Of course. Come on, let me give you a blanket and something hot to drink."

 

Rory gestured for the female to follow her as she re-entered the warm kitchen. For a moment she felt embarrassed by the mess she'd made while baking the tarts. She lunged for the pile of unwashed dishes and almost threw them in the sink and wiped the counter covered in floor with the sleeve of her white shirt. Gods, why was she always so messy?

 

"I'm Mor, by the way," the female introduced herself as she sat on one of the stools by the oven. "Rude of me not to introduce myself earlier."

 

Rory turned towards her and was taken aback by the warm smile on her face. It made her face light up, and those--

 

_Wait, what?_

 

"Mor as in..." she trailed off, eyes bulging. "The Morrigan."

 

_Shoot_.

 

The shock must've been evident on her face, because her smile faltered.

 

"Yes, that would be me."

 

Morrigan, one of the legendary warriors who fought bravely in The War against Hybern's forces and did everything she could to protect the humans -- one of the few High Fae who truly believed that those who were considered to be beneath her were worth something more.

 

Rory stopped breathing altogether. If she'd been born half a century ago, she would've probably been enslaved for her heritage. Her mother was a sidhe, passing on to her the bluish skin and coppery eyes. They sometimes earned her unwanted attention, but nothing major -- not here, in Velaris. Here, she was home. She was safe.

 

She snapped out of her trance as Mor tilted her head and stared at her.

 

"Oh-- Sorry, I forgot about your blanket. Let me just--"

 

She yelped in surprise as she tripped over her own feet and landed atop of the counter, knocking off the bowl filled with flour. She tried to catch it but all of it fell on her, covering her chest and most of her face.

 

She must truly be cursed.

 

"Are you alright? I'm sorry if I put you in an awkward position," Mor said, reaching her side and helping her up.

 

"No, of course not," she stammered as she raised herself up. "I'm just surprised."

 

"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked again, darting her eyes all over her body as if she'd been stabbed multiple times.

 

"Yes, I'm sure," Rory replied.

 

Mor took in her face, noticing for the first time that she was covered in flour. A smile bloomed on her face. Rory's cheeks reddened.

 

"Then maybe you can tell me your name before you knock something over again?" she teased her, releasing her arm.

 

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. Gods above, could she embarrass herself any more?

 

"Aurora," she managed to say. "But everybody calls me Rory."

 

Eyes fixed on hers and a pert smile on her pale face, Mor reached out a hand towards her. Rory's heart threatened to burst out of her chest as she shook it.

 

"So you're the infamous young baker whose desserts have put everyone's else's to shame. It's good to finally put a face to the name."

 

Rory chuckled, some of the tension leaving her chest. They always painted her as a fierce, vengeful goddess -- and she'd heard the stories about her. Ruthless as a lioness and cunning as a spider, they said. But standing in front of her, her hair and clothes soaking wet and a kind smile on her face, Rory wondered how much battle could change you. What it could transform you into.

 

_How could she still smile, even after all she'd been through?_

 

"It's nice to meet you, too," she said after a too-long pause. "Would... Would you like to have some lemon tarts? I just took them out of the oven."

 

"I'd like that very much," she answered.

 

* * *

 

Mor didn't dare say a word as the dark-haired female named Aurora put one of the delicious-looking tarts on a small plate and offered it to her. There was such bewilderment and curiosity in those coppery eyes, looking at her as if she couldn't quite believe she was real.

 

"It's actually a new recipe that I've been trying to improve for a while now. Tell me if it's worth another batch," she jokingly said and turned to clean the counter.

 

Oh, by the smell of it, Mor was absolutely certain that they were worthy of being served to the gods themselves. She took a bite of the tart and almost, almost moaned at the sweet taste. It took her almost five seconds before she devoured all if it, forgetting all about manners and appearances. To hell with them.

 

"It's worth much more than another batch," she said between swallows. "Cauldron boil me, this is delicious."

 

When Aurora turned around and gave her a closed-lip smile, Mor's stomach turned into knots. There was something about this girl, something that startled and intrigued Mor at the same time. After she offered her another one and set on to clean the kitchen, her eyes followed her every move, trying to get a better sense of her. Although at first she seemed clumsy and a bit reluctant, now she seemed much more sure of herself. The way she readied her own worktable and iced several cakes and muffins, how she hummed to herself as she mixed different ingredients and prepared the dough without a worry of her hands or clothes, how alive she seemed when Mor tasted cake after cake and told her that they were fabulous.

 

Truth to be told, she was seconds away from hurling her guts up on the wooden floors from so much sugar, but even she couldn't resist to those delicious desserts.

 

_Where are you? Come on, we have to leave in a bit._

 

Mor gritted her teeth at her cousin's voice filling her mind.

 

_I'm rather occupied right now, Rhys. You can all leave before me, I don't mind arriving late._

 

Aurora packed a few dozen cupcakes, preparing orders after orders. Obviously, she wasn't the only one who liked her baking.

 

Rhysand was silent for a couple of moments, but then he decided to speak again:

 

_I see,_ he drawled. _We'll meet you at Tarquin's palace, then. Feyre sends her love. Cassian sends--_

_Don't even finish that sentence_ , Mor stopped him.

 

She heard her cousin chuckle in the back of her mind before he disappeared.

 

"You aren't what I expected you to be," Aurora said, making her furrow her eyebrows."Everyone knows you, you know. They talk about you."

 

"And what do they say?"

 

"The people in Velaris love you, of course, but they still remember the days during the War. How you were back then."

 

A heavy silence hovered over them. Mor remembered; remembered the hardships and the pain and all that suffering. The mark it left on her. She was not above suffering, too -- but she chose to bury it deep and move on with her life.

 

Turns out that her people weren't buying any of it.

 

"I guess we can call that the Dark Age of Prythian," Mor laughed dryly. "Those years were... intense. The war with Hybern was intense, too. War is not something you'd want to go through, although we had no choice. But now it's all over, and it's our duty to learn to move on in any way we can. That's what all of us fought for, after all."

 

"How did you do it?" Aurora asked, leaning on the counter and crossing her slim arms across her chest.

 

Mor pondered over the question for a few seconds, wondering if there was anyone who ever asked her that question.

 

"You just do," she shrugged. "You don't have much of a choice. You force yourself to get out there and live as much as you can and face everything that comes your way. Eventually it gets easier."

 

Aurora bit her lip, nodding her head.

 

"They weren't wrong about one thing, though."

 

"And what is that?"

 

"That you had more faith and bravery than any other Fae out there. You still do."

 

Mor's lips turned upwards, Aurora's mirroring hers.

 

"Can--"

 

A loud knock on the door interrupted Mor and startled Aurora.

 

"Who can that be?" she grimaced as she made her way to the front room, but Mor stopped her.

 

"I wouldn't if I were you. That's a very annoying friend of mine who's going to be pestering you with either questions or demands for your food if you answer him."

 

"Morrigan! Let's go!" Cassian's voice boomed, followed with a retort from another male. Azriel.

 

Sighing, Mor dropped the blanket on the chair and stood up.

 

"That's my cue to take my leave. Thank you, Aurora. I hope I'll be seeing you again."

 

She forced herself to grab the knob and open the door, knowing that if Cassian barged it, she wouldn't hear the end of it.

 

"Wait," said Aurora as she grabbed her arm. "These are for you."

 

She held a pretty yellow box with flowers painted on it and a small orange bow on top of it. Mor took the box and looked up at Aurora.

 

"Lemon tarts. I hope you'll enjoy them as much as you did the others," she chuckled, her eyes shining like a thousand stars.

 

"You didn't have to," Mor managed to say. Since when did she become so nervous?

 

"It's my pleasure. I also don't get much company around here, so think of them as a thank you gift."

 

"In this case, I'll make sure to find myself in the rain again," Mor joked.

 

"I'll be here when you do."

 

Something tugged at her -- barely, but it was there. Before she had time to question it, Cassian yelled again.

 

"Don't make me come in there and haul your ass myself!"

 

"Insufferable bastard," Mor murmured. "I'm sorry. He has no idea what manners. Thank you again for these and for helping me."

 

Aurora bowed her head and opened the door for her. They barely brushed shoulders on her way out, a vibration taking hold of her body and making her skin burn. Aurora's eyes were as big as hers, although neither mentioned it.

 

"Mor?"

 

"Yes?"

 

There was a flicker of nervousness in her scent, as if unsure if she should voice what she was about to say. Mor waited patiently for her to gather her courage.

 

"If... If you're not too busy, come by tomorrow. I'll be preparing a blueberry pie with some enchanted fruit from across the continent. I'd like for you to taste it."

 

She tried, she really did, but failed to mask her excitement.

 

"Of course. I'll be here," Mor said.

 

To hell with the Summer Solstice celebrations. Mor would be damned if she missed a chance to see Aurora again -- even if she might gain a few pounds because of it.

 

Because deep in her soul, she knew this was no accidental meeting. She didn't really know what it was, but she was more than willing to find out.


End file.
